


Dog's Best Friend

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don’t copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, paranormal elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23894401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: James and Q go for a walk to take their minds off of a missing Alec Trevelyan and find a dog. Naturally Q wants to bring it home.
Relationships: James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 67
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kryptaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryptaria/gifts), [Dart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dart/gifts), [jaimistoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/gifts).



> Thanks to Kryptaria for the initial speculation that sparked this idea, to Mazikeen the Borzoi for the inspiration, and to Dart and Jaimistoryteller, whose brainstorming helped give this a foundation.

A warm breeze drifted past, gently stirring his Quartermaster’s messy curls, and James Bond smiled despite himself. He was more relaxed than he’d been in a while. Weeks of tension had been dropping away from his shoulders during their little excursion, leaving behind a dawning sense of peace. He stopped walking and took a deep breath, enjoying the smells of earth and greenery around him.

“So much for Mr Only-Tourists-Do-These-Walks,” Q said, watching James with a fond smile. His hazel eyes sparkled with humour behind the heavy black frames of his glasses. “Aren’t you glad I made you come along?”

Walking along a corridor of green in the middle of London hadn’t figured greatly in James’ original plans for the day. There’d been rather more time naked and in their flat, for one thing. But he found he couldn’t truly mind the change in plans. He might even suggest they do the Parkland Walk again sometime. He’d never admit that to Q, however. “I suppose it’s not too terribly taxing,” he teased.

Q chuckled, shaking his head at James’ playful words. “Come on. We’ve still a ways to go before we get to the end.” 

“All right.” James found himself still smiling as they walked along the shaded path. From time to time they nodded to other walkers out for a stroll. He hadn’t felt quite this carefree since before Alec had gone missing. “You promised me lunch, remember.”

“As if you’d let me forget?” Q grinned at him, taking the sting out of the words. “Don’t worry. You‘ll like the pub I found.”

“I’d better,” James said loftily. “I do have high standards, you know.”

“Of course you do. Why else would you be with me?” Q winked at him.

“Well, there’s the sex, of course,” James said, somehow managing a straight face before dissolving into laughter. As if that was the only thing that bound them together, instead of actually falling in love.

Q snickered. “Of course, how could I ever forget the sex?” Then he lost control, and began laughing in earnest. 

A few passersby stopped to glare in disapproval at them laughing like fiends before hurrying on their way. That only caused them both to laugh even harder. 

James had to admit, once he’d gotten some control back and they’d started walking again, that he’d needed this break in routine. He was still worried about Alec, despite the odd sense of  _ knowing  _ that his friend and lover was still alive. He’d be happier if Alec actually checked in, or if they somehow got word he was all right. Not even Q had been able to find a trace of their lover.

They had just passed a bridge when an unexpected noise came from behind them. James tensed as he recognized the piercing whistle of an incoming missile. Training so deeply ingrained into his muscles that it was almost instinct drove him to grab his companion and hit the ground with Q protectively caged underneath him. 

He ignored Q’s squawking protests and waited tensely for the explosion— Which… didn’t happen. What? Was the missile a dud? He cautiously raised his head.

Q bucked hard underneath him, swearing and pushing at him. “Get off me! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Baffled, James slowly rolled to the side and stood, offering Q a hand up. 

Naturally Q ignored the helping hand in favour of gaining his feet by himself. He pointedly ignored James while he picked up his glasses and settled them on his face. Then he turned to glare, his eyes snapping with annoyance. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I heard… thought I heard a missile.” James shook his head, baffled. How could he have been wrong? He knew what he had heard.

Q looked, if it was at all possible, even more annoyed. “That was a dog whining.”

“No, it couldn’t have been.” He knew what a dog sounded like. This had definitely sounded like—

“It was a dog.” Q gestured towards the bridge they had just passed, where a creature crept hesitantly out of the shadows. “See? A dog.”

James supposed the creature could vaguely fit into the category of  _ dog.  _ It was a tall, skinny thing, with mud and debris streaking its golden fur. He eyed it warily, automatically assessing its threat level. Would it attack? But no, it looked too pathetic to be dangerous. Wait, what the devil was Q doing? “Come back here!”

“It’s fine. Poor thing looks hungry. It’s probably lost.” Q approached the dog one slow step at a time, hand outstretched. “Here, boy, it’s all right. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The dog whined again, stretching its long nose to its farthest reach in order to nudge at Q’s hand.

“See? He’s friendly,” Q said, glancing at James triumphantly as the dog sidled closer for more attention. Q stroked its head with a small smile.

_ Oh, no.  _ James’ stomach sank as the dog leaned into Q’s touch with a sigh. Deep down he knew. No matter how he protested, that dog would be coming home with them.

* * *

They resumed their walk. The dog paced sedately beside Q in a perfect heel, even though they had nothing to use as a makeshift lead. They’d only gone a few steps when the breeze changed direction.

James wrinkled his nose and looked askance at the dog. “What in God’s name has he been rolling in?”

“Don’t worry,” Q said blithely. “I’ll give him a bath when we get home.”

It was on the tip of James’ tongue to say  _ he’s not getting into my car like that, _ but both common sense and self-preservation kicked in before he could utter the first syllable. Besides, he almost had a kinship with the dog, didn’t he? Q had taken in two stray Double O’s, after all. He considered how to get the dog home and protect his car’s upholstery at the same time. Wasn’t there a survival blanket in the boot from the time he and Alec had been prepared to go rescue 003 when Latimer had gotten himself stuck in the mountains? He could spread that across the back seat for the dog to lay on. James heaved a sigh, informing the world he was greatly put upon by both stray dogs and stubborn Quartermasters.

Q stepped close and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, love.”

James just grumbled, although he was suffused with warmth. He ignored the dog as it whuffed a sound that was suspiciously like a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q get the dog home. Now it's time to get it cleaned up and find out who it belongs to...

“All right, out you get,” James said, holding the Aston’s door open for the dog. Q stood at his side, waiting, instead of going into the house to put down a sheet or a towel or something, to keep the dog from tracking mud all over the floor. 

The dog was lying on the seat with his legs folded underneath him. He looked up, excited, when the door opened, and got to his feet — or at least, he attempted to get to his feet. James fought down a laugh as the dog’s legs tangled as he stood and sent him crashing back to the seat. James swore the dog gave him an embarrassed look before trying again, this time making sure he had his feet solidly under him before standing. 

“Is he all right?” Q asked, peering worriedly around his shoulder at the dog. “Maybe his leg fell asleep or something.”

“He’ll be fine,” James said, with more confidence than he felt. 

The dog slowly got out of the car, one long, careful leg at a time, until he finally managed to get all four legs on the ground and underneath him at the same time.

“Well done,” Q said, a happy, encouraging note in his voice. “Come along, we’ll give you a nice bath.”

James turned, studying the dog as it followed Q toward the house. Maybe the dog was younger than it looked, and was still getting used to its long legs? Growth spurts could have left it a bit clumsy… He didn’t think the dog was a juvenile, though.

* * *

James spent the next little while cleaning his car, then moved on to the floor of the house where the dog dripped mud. Thank goodness they had moved from his flat. The neighbors would have rioted at the mess and the smell. Q had the dog in the bath, and by the sound of it, the bath was going much more smoothly than James would have expected for a stray dog. 

When he finished mopping the floor, he went to bathroom to see how much of a disaster it was. James opened the door and got a face full of heat and steam that billowed out into the hallway, carrying with it the scent of Q’s shampoo, and underneath that he detected the smell of roasted chicken — their leftovers from last night, no doubt. Well, fair enough. James had seen the dog’s ribs sticking out just a bit. As for the bathroom itself… It really wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. Q was kneeling at the side of the tub, murmuring nonsense to the dog while patting him dry with one of the larger towels. There were several towels stacked beside him, waiting to be used, and a pile of discarded towels in various stages of soaked or mud-covered.

“Oh, there you are.” Q grinned up at him, still patting the dog, and nodded towards the dirty towels. “I wiped up the floor best I could while I was waiting for the conditioner to sit a while.”

James smiled. “Good, that’s — wait, _conditioner?”_ Who used conditioner on dogs?

Q continued as is if James hadn’t spoken. “I looked up his breed — I think he’s a borzoi — and one of the grooming tips is conditioner after shampooing. We don’t have dog conditioner, obviously, so I used mine. It also said to pat the fur dry, because rubbing the hair could cause tangles. As it is, I’ll have to finger comb him because I don’t have the correct type of brush for his coat.”

“...Right.” James stared at the dog, who stood with a faintly long-suffering air while Q patted and scrunched the towel carefully. The light brown colour of the dog’s wet hair reminded him of Alec’s… He shook off that through and cast about for something to say. “He seems to be very well mannered.”

“Yes, I was quite pleased not to have a fight on my hands. He’s very well trained. Aren’t you well trained, sweetheart, yes, you are.” Q’s voice went up in pitch as he addressed the dog, who twisted and tried to lick Q’s face. “Ack! No, just stand there,” Q laughed, pushing the dog back into position.

“Yes, he is very well trained.” James seized on that thought, because it sounded like Q was getting attached. “We’ll have to find out who he belongs to.”

Q stopped patting the dog and looked up, stricken. “Who he belongs to?”

 _Fuck._ Too late. “Q, we can’t keep him.”

“Why not? He’s been abandoned. Obviously his people don’t want him, or they wouldn’t have left him behind.”

James’s thoughts turned towards Alec again. “What if he’s lost and his family is looking for him? They probably miss him.”

Q heaved a heavy sigh and went back to drying the dog. “I suppose you’re right.”

Good. Relieved that Q hadn’t put up more of a fight, James strove for a genial smile. No need to hurt Q’s feelings. “We can take him to a vet, they’ll have one of those chip scanners.”

“Yeah.” Q sounded miserable.

James’ shoulders slumped. He hated seeing Q upset. “Q—”

“I know,” Q interrupted. “You’re right. Just let me finish here. Can you get him something more to eat? We’ll be out shortly.”

James nodded — he could do that — and made his escape.

* * *

James went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, knowing he’d find nothing else suitable to feed the dog. Q had already used — yes, all of it — the leftover chicken they’d had the night before. Hmm… what did they have that a dog would eat? Eggs. Dogs could have eggs, couldn’t they? Well, why not. He got out a pair of eggs, remembered the dog’s ribs, and got out two more. They had plenty.

He was just finishing up scrambled eggs — he’d added some cheese, too — when Q led the dog into the kitchen. James grinned, pleased at the way Q’s face lit up at the sight of him standing there with the eggs. He plated the eggs and put the frying pan in the sink to cool. 

Now mostly dry, the dog’s coat was a golden color that shaded to light cream or white on his front and what James could see of his belly. The dog really was quite well mannered; he sat calmly at Q’s feet, even though his attention was completely focused on the plate of eggs on the counter.

“Thank you, James.” Q took the plate James passed to him and placed it in front of the eager dog. “Would you keep an eye on him for a minute? I’ll go get my microchip scanner.”

“Of course — wait, you have a microchip scanner? Why?”

Q hesitated. “I’ll, erm, I’ll tell you when I get back.” The dog looked up as Q attempted to make his escape from the kitchen, and Q looked down at him. “No, go ahead and finish eating. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Dogs can’t actually understand what you’re saying, you know.”

Q rolled his eyes. “I know, but that’s no reason not to be reassuring.”

James was left wondering, as Q left the room, if that’s why Q talked to the Double O’s about the most ridiculous things on missions, sometimes… “What are you looking at, hmm?”

The dog almost seemed to shrug, then bent to finish his plate of eggs. James wondered if he should come up with some sort of small talk… Fortunately Q returned, holding a paddle-shaped microchip scanner, sparing James the embarrassment of holding a conversation to entertain the dog. He waited while Q fussed with the paddle, getting it ready to use. “You were going to explain why you have a microchip scanner,” he reminded. To his astonishment, Q flushed.

The dog finished the plate of food and wandered over to Q, poking him with his long nose.

“Erm, it’s for, erm…” Q looked down as he trailed off, mumbling something that James couldn’t quite hear. Q’s hand dropped to the dog’s head to give him a quick pat.

“I didn’t quite catch that.” Now James was even more curious. What reason would Q have to be reluctant to talk about a scanner?

Q sighed and faced James fully, his hand straying back to the dog, playing with its ears. “To test microchips before I put them in my agents.”

“You chip your agents?” James blinked. “What on earth for? That could be dangerous, Q. What if someone is captured, the chip would be discovered —”

“They’re experimental,” Q interrupted before James could build up a full head of steam. The dog whined, leaning into Q’s side. “They work on a different frequency, and the chips are shielded, so they only work with this scanner, or one of the others that I’ve modified.”

“Do I have one of those chips?” James didn’t feel reassured, and the dog’s whining was setting him on edge. “What are they supposed to do? They can’t be used for a location beacon — or can they?”

Q gave him a withering stare. “Of course you have a chip. And yes, they can be used for location. They’ve only got a short range so far, so I’d need to be close to wherever an agent went missing.”

Despite himself, James felt disappointed. That meant they couldn’t use the scanner to find wherever Alec had disappeared to. “How does it work?”

“Let me readjust the frequency...” Q sighed. “I’d just gotten adjusted it to the frequency used by most animal microchips.” He fiddled with the paddle a moment, then waved it over James’ back, where it emitted a cheerful three-toned beep. “Here.”

He took the scanner, and there, on a small black screen, green letters spelled out _James Bond, 007. Property of the Quartermaster. If found return to Q at MI6._ “Ha, bloody ha.”

Q’s lips twitched into a smile. “To be fair, no one except me can read these chips. Like I said, they work on a different frequency to chips normally used in animals. Here, let me show you. It won’t read the dog’s chip — if he even has one, that is.” He waved the paddle over the dog at his side. The paddle beeped cheerfully once more. “What the—” Q cut himself off, staring at the paddle in shock.

“I thought you said that animal microchips were on a different frequency—”

“James,” Q said firmly, “be quiet. This is... No. There’s no way this can be possible. Look.” 

He took the paddle once more, giving it a cursory glance, fully intending to demand that Q give him more details. But when the words on the screen registered, the paddle slipped from his nerveless fingers. Each one of them jumped as it clattered on the floor. James stared at Q in disbelief. What he’d read on the paddle couldn’t be possible:

_Alec Trevelyan, 006. Property of the Quartermaster. If found return to Q at MI6._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q come to terms with finding Alec's microchip in their dog. It's a subject that leaves them with more questions than they have answers.

James stared at the dog in stunned silence, watching wordlessly as he leaned down and prodded the paddle with his nose. Q made a strangled sound of protest at the sight of his precious tech in danger of becoming a doggy chew toy, but the dog did nothing else. He simply looked up, deep brown eyes full of uncertainty, and gazed at them.  _ “Whuff?” _

It sounded like a question. James sagged back against the counter, wondering...  _ No. Impossible.  _ People didn’t just turn into dogs. That was a ridiculous notion. But a traitorous part of his brain pointed to that damn microchip. He had no way explain that. Unless…  _ God.  _ Too many memories of being questioned — _ tortured  _ — after being captured flashed through his mind as he stared at the dog. 

A dog that  _ stared back  _ with intelligence in his eyes. Hopeful, for all the uncertainty there. An intelligence that felt familiar.  _ No.  _ It simply was  _ not  _ possible. But that thought left all those unwelcome memories shoving their way to the forefront of his brain. Bile rose in his throat as he fought to stay in the present rather than get lost in memories of the past. 

He raked a hand through his hair and glared at Q. “You and your  _ damn  _ microchips! Whoever has Alec must have found it. His cover was blown, and they cut it out of him.” 

The dog’s eyes widened, and he pressed against Q’s hip. It was a familiar motion, something Alec would do when injured or trying to reassure one of them. Alec’s first instinct had always been to touch, to make physical contact with those he cared for.  _ No.  _ James pulled his anger around himself like a shield. His mind was playing tricks on him. Had to be.

Q paled, his hand dropping protectively to the dog’s head. “No, there’s no way anyone could have found that microchip—”

Fury overrode James’ control and he snarled, slashing his hand toward the dog. “What other explanation can there be, Q? They cut the chip out of Alec and put it in  _ him!” _

“That’s not—” Q’s fingers stilled against the dog’s head, and he straightened, brow furrowed and his lips pressed tight. Then he shook his head. “No. That’s unlikely. Why would they put the microchip in a dog? There’s no reason. If someone had found it — and I still say that’s not possible — it makes more sense that they’d have put it in a box still bloody and mailed it to us. Removing the chip...” his voice trailed off as he looked down at the dog he was petting. 

The dog whined softly, looking from Q to James.

Q’s fingers started playing with the dog’s ears once more, and he said firmly, “No. There’s no point in moving the microchip to a dog.”

James ground his teeth. Q had a point, but… there was something strange about the dog. Too many almost familiar behaviors. _Impossible,_ he reminded himself again. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath to rein in his anger. When he opened his eyes again he found Q watching him somberly. “How did it get here, then? In _him?”_ His voice sounded plaintive in his own ears.

Q shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.” 

The simple statement sent a shiver of apprehension down James’ spine. He wouldn’t admit it, but he relied on Q’s knowledge. For all his instincts and luck, missions sometimes went wrong, and when they did, he knew Q would have what he needed. For Q to admit not knowing something… James fought back a shudder. He was back to thinking the dog might actually be Alec, and his mind shied away from that thought.

“You told me last week that you had a… a _ feeling  _ Alec was fine,” Q said, shifting his attention from the dog to James. “Has that feeling changed?”

“I—” James stopped. His gaze went back to the dog. He frowned in realization. Other than his imagination painting pictures of horror, he still had a feeling that Alec was safe. “No, it hasn’t.”

Why was that so unsettling? He felt as though there was some intangible bit of information at the edge of his consciousness that he couldn’t quite grasp. Something that he should be able to figure out, yet he couldn’t. He snorted at himself, ignoring the question on Q’s face. It was another impossible thing. He couldn’t explain why he trusted the feeling. Just as when he went on a mission, he had to rely on his instincts. He simply knew that Alec was all right.

“Right.” Q nodded, expression going distant as he considered what James had said. “In that case, there are several questions that we have to answer. Why are you so sure about that? How did the chip get in the dog? Why was he in the park just when we went there? Did simply he find us randomly? If not,  _ who put him in our path?” _

James didn’t have an answer to any of those questions. An oppressive silence fell between them that was only broken when the dog huffed. Once more it felt familiar. Alec had a tendency to huff in aggravation when he was frustrated. He was tempted to ask the dog if he really was Alec. The only thing stopping him was his reluctance to look like a fool in front of Q. He didn’t want to admit to anyone that a part of him wanted to believe in the impossible.

That thought reminded him of something Alec had said before before he left on his mission. Unfortunately, it was something that James couldn’t quite remember. “We should find out everything we can about Alec’s mission first. Maybe our answers are there.”

Q smiled, looking relived that they had a plan, however tentative it might be. “That makes sense. Look into the most obvious possibilities first, and eliminate what we can. The most likely explanation is usually the one that’s the simplest.”

James stared at the dog pensively. Why did he have the feeling that they would find the explanation for this to be anything but simple?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q have a plan, but there's still something about the dog that puzzles them. Their plan to find out about Alec's mission might or might not help.

Silence filled the kitchen as both James and Q continued to look at the dog. Even though they had decided on a course of action — checking out Alec’s mission — James felt as though there was still more he that needed to figure out.

The dog looked back at them. It was as though he expected something, James thought. But what? Then again — he considered the dog’s ribs. Maybe he was still hungry. What else did they have that dogs could eat? Not the steaks of course. He had to draw the line somewhere. “What are we going to do with him?”

“Keep him, of course,” Q said, looking surprised at the question. “His chip says he’s mine, after all.”

“Yes, but his chip says he’s _Alec._ He’s obviously not.” James didn’t roll his eyes. He knew better. And he was staring at the dog again. How about oatmeal? Did dogs eat oatmeal? It would definitely be filling, and he was sure he’d seen a couple of packets of instant lying around last time he’d put the shopping away...

Q scoffed. “As if that would keep me from letting anyone else take him!”

The obvious possessiveness distracted James from his thoughts of feeding the dog, and a warmth suffused him despite himself. That was his Q. Dedicated to doing everything possible to keep agents — and strays — safe. 

The dog wagged his tail slowly, his attention moving from one to the other as they spoke. _Whuff?_

Q bit his lip, looking away for a moment. “I know it’s a ridiculous idea, but… If it _was_ somehow possible… do you think? I mean… he seems intelligent for a dog.”

“You mean _Alec_ is intelligent for a dog?” James said, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. His smile broke free as Q sputtered, and he looked into the dog’s brown eyes. Was there human intelligence looking back at him? He didn’t see a reaction to his teasing, but… “I don’t know. He hasn’t tried to tell us anything. Or has he?”

Q only shook his head, still looking troubled.

James sighed. He knelt and, feeling faintly ridiculous, made sure he had the dog’s attention. “Alec? _Is_ it you?”

* * *

Alec Trevelyan slipped through the night, keeping to the shadows of random trees and shrubs, and keeping a wary eye on his footing. The scent of lilac surrounding one of the shrubs had distracted him for a moment, and he’d almost turned his ankle on a root. The light from the crescent moon was just enough to see where he was going, but it also made it difficult to see rocks or holes in the ground that could trip him up. It was a good thing James hadn’t been there to notice his distraction. Alec would never live it down. Of course, if James _were_ there, the mission would almost certainly involve seduction rather than mayhem, and neither of them would have been sneaking around outdoors in the dark.

His stomach sank as he drew closer to his goal, and the lilac scented air carried with it the sound of voices. When he reached the treeline, he looked over the smooth expanse of yard at the sprawling manor in the distance and swore. He’d planned his infiltration for a night when his target, Iago Drax, was scheduled to be away for the night. Instead, it looked as though Drax was hosting a dinner party. What had changed his plans? 

Floodlights set up in the front courtyard turned the the night into day, illuminating the guests’ cars parked next to the drive. There were only a handful, though; perhaps it was only a small party? If so, they might stay in the wing of the manor where the dining room was located. His destination was in the opposite wing. Alec wanted to complete his mission if he could. His hand drifted to his right front pocket, absently checking for the thumb drive. He only needed to load its contents onto his target’s computer, then he could be on his way.

There was nothing about him that might reflect the light and catch someone’s eye. He wore a black watch cap pulled low over his ears and he’d rubbed a camouflage stick over his face. Still, the guards would be more alert with a party going on, and he’d be a target the entire time it took to cross unless he could find another way in.

On the other side of the manor, dogs barked in the kennel runs. Something had excited them. A wild animal, maybe? The smell of wild lilac, carried on the warm night air from the woods behind him, grew stronger. Memories he hadn’t thought of in almost thirty years poked their way into his consciousness. His grandmother, sitting outside, next to the lilac outside their house, telling him stories… warning him of — things he hadn't understood at something like four years old. His dad had always told him his gran’s stories were all nonsense. Why was he thinking about them now? He shook his head. More distraction that he didn’t need. Maybe he should take Q up on that threatened vacation when he returned. They could always kidnap James if he wasn’t willing to go along.

 _There._ Alec grinned as the lights abruptly went out one by one. Maybe his distraction was good for something after all. Timing! Now, why had the lights gone out while the dinner party was in full swing? He grinned wolfishly. The only way to find out was to go and look.

* * *

Alec crossed the vast expanse of lawn, and the less said about that the better. He was getting to be a bit too old for crawling around in the dark. Still, keeping low to the ground ensured that the guards roving around hadn’t spotted him. From the snatches he’d overheard, the generator running the floodlights had malfunctioned. It didn’t sound as though they suspected sabotage, which begged the question — what, exactly, had caused the fault?

That wasn’t Alec’s concern, however. With the guards focused on the generator, he had a clear path to the manor. All he had to do was get in, avoid Drax and the party guests, find the computer and dump the data into it, and then leave without anyone being the wiser. Easy peasy.

He entered the manor through a side door that led to a sitting room, well away from the activity of the party. He checked his mental map of the manor’s layout. According to the blueprints he’d studied, Drax’s office was upstairs and to the right. The sounds of the dinner party came from the dining room. Looked as though he was right, and they were staying in the other wing of the manor. He should be safe enough. 

He slipped out of the sitting room to the door of servant’s stairs that led to the next floor. The stairs weren’t well lit, but they were sturdy. It wouldn’t do to have random creaking disturb the quiet of the house, he supposed. 

At the next floor, he cracked open the door and looked out. An empty hallway greeted him. He stepped out, and the lights immediately brightened. _Well, fuck._ Hopefully no one noticed and came looking. He’d better be quick, though. 

Alec found the office to the right of the main staircase, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was unlocked. Naturally, a lock wouldn’t have slowed him down any, but locking the door again when he left would have been a pain the arse.

The computer sat on an oversized desk in the corner of the office. Alec pressed a key on the keyboard to wake it and slotted the thumb drive into place. The hard drive whirred softly as the thumb drive delivered its code. A few seconds later the hard drive slowed, and Alec ejected the thumb drive and put it back in his pocket. Now he was free to leave. 

Once back out in the hallway, however, he encountered a problem. Voices were coming from the main stairs, and he there was no way to get to the door of the servant’s stairway without being seen. He couldn’t take the chance of going back into the office, either. 

He did the only thing he could do, and went into the room directly opposite the office.

* * *

Alec found himself in a small storeroom. He guessed that it had once been a bedroom, or possibly a sitting room. Now it played host to a couple of metal shelving units full of cardboard boxes. Should he take the time to search them? No, every minute he delayed he risked being found. He had accomplished his mission. He needed to get out.

He crossed to the window and opened it, hoping to find some way of getting to the ground — other than jumping. Unfortunately, there were no convenient trellises when he looked out. There was, however, a ledge. He could hang on the edge, and the drop would be only a few feet. He’d have to get up quickly and get to the shelter of the kennels to avoid being seen. The dogs were quiet now, but the fact that no one had investigated their earlier barking meant that it was a normal occurrence and no one would check when they barked at him.

Alec rolled as he landed to help dissipate his velocity, and then was up and running. Voices from around the corner told him the guards were on their way. He hit the door to the kennels and went through — and stopped short. Fifteen borzoi swarmed him, all jostling each other happily to get closer to him. _Fuck._ At least they were all friendly. 

...Then one of them bounced up on its hind legs and put a heavy forepaw on his stomach. Next thing he knew there was a long, wet tongue sliding across his nose and mouth. Another dog on his side decided to stick a nose in his ear, and he was forced back against the door. Other dogs tried to get to him, pushing each other out of the way. One of them stepped on his foot, and then he got an extremely long snoot poking at his crotch. If this was a friendly welcome, he would hate to see what they did to someone the didn’t like!

Over the happy noises the dogs were making, he could hear the sound of the guards approaching outside. _Shit._ He tried to push his way through the pack of borzoi, but they weren’t having it. He was being pushed inexorably towards the side of the room, away from every possible exit. He didn’t think it was deliberate, just the dogs’ joy at having a human to play with.

He lost the battle to stay on his feet just as the kennel door opened. Even with as many dogs as there were, he had no hope of being hidden from view. Panic threaded through him for a moment before training took over. The dogs would swarm the newcomers, and he’d be able to fight his way free.

He braced himself against the floor and got jostled again by another borzoi. Alec blinked at a moment of dizziness, and shook his head. Vertigo hit, and he stumbled, only to catch himself with a paw. Shock held him still as he realized that in addition to the paw he had _fur._

Then the borzoi surged, swarming the door exuberantly as they enveloped the guards, who shouted at each other as they were knocked over. Alec let himself be carried along by the pack, and slipped out the door to freedom. The dogs scattered, obviously delighted to have the chance to run.

Alec made a beeline for the trees, two or three borzoi following him. Once he made it to the trees, he slowed down. How the hell was he going to explain _this_ to James and Q?

For that matter, how was he going to get home?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec has one thought driving him: he has to get home to James and Q. The problem is, he's a _dog._ It's not easy for a borzoi to cross Europe and get home to London. He's going to have to hitch a lift.

Alec picked his way among the trees, wondering how he was going to get home. Only one of the other borzois still followed him. She was a friendly pup, constantly bouncing around at him in an invitation to play. He snapped at her, adult to pup, to get her settle down. Whining, the pup dropped meekly back, and he hoped she would head back to her kennel, where she’d be safe. He felt a bit guilty for disappointing her, but he had problems. At least he’d accomplished his mission before he’d… changed. 

He looked around; nothing but trees as far as he could see.  _ Now what?  _ He had no transport. He’d had to abandon his car. It wasn’t like he could drive it like  _ this.  _

Something tugged his tail, and he whirled, shocked. 

The pup was there, pure mischief dancing in her eyes, leaping toward him and dancing back. She wanted to play, did she? Some instinct prodded him, and he took a step towards her. The pup wriggled in joy at this sign he would play with her and tackled him, bowling him over. Alec hit the ground with a thud. It took a second to realize what had happened.  _ Oh, it was on, now.  _ He surged up, gathered his legs underneath him and leapt at the pup. 

She darted away with a happy bark, and Alec followed — the game of chase the only thing on his mind.

* * *

Much later — hours? Only minutes? — Alec threw himself to the ground, panting hard. The pup had gone home a short time before, summoned by a piercing whistle that had interrupted their play. She’d been well trained: she’d broken off from their game with only a little reluctance, and had dashed off without a backward glance.

_ Was there any water nearby?  _ Alec wasn’t ready to move yet from where he lay flopped on the ground, but he was so thirsty. Maybe he could go find some when he’d gotten his breath back. A thought poked at the back of his mind.  _ Wasn’t there something he should be doing? _

Then he caught the scent of nearby moisture.  _ Water!  _ Alec bounded up, with a happy yelp, ready to find it.

* * *

He followed his nose through the woods until he found himself at a stream. His arrival on the muddy bank startled something into the water; his ears pricked up at the  _ plop.  _ Instinct drove him into the water, and before he knew it, he had caught the frog. He was also dripping with water and mud. Algae, too, if he wasn’t mistaken. James would be furious at him if he got the house dirty when he got home.

_ James.  _

The bolt of memory sent a shock through him. How could he forget James? Or  _ Q?  _ His wavy haired boffin was just as important. Hard on the heels of that thought was the realization that he needed to get home. But which way? He scanned his surroundings, alert for any sign that could indicate which direction might be better than the others. Faint traffic sounds caught his ears. Roads would lead to a town, or even a city. From there, he was sure he could sneak his way onto transport. 

* * *

Alec snuck around the side of a warehouse, looking for a place to hide for a little while. The problem, he found, was that he was a borzoi. And borzoi were both very big and very memorable. He’d already been chased several times over the last few days. Days? It hadn’t been longer than that, had it? He couldn’t tell. He might even be losing time, as alarming as that thought was. Regardless, he had to keep moving. He didn’t dare let himself be caught.

Even more worrying — and this was something that sent a chill down his spine with each realization — was that he was forgetting things as well as possibly losing time. Things such as where he was going, and why he needed to get there. James’ face was becoming blurred in his memory. Q had already become fuzzy. 

He dropped into a crouch behind a stack of barrels, panting in the heat. He’d dreamt the night before. His grandmother, trying to tell him something that sounded urgent. As always, his father’s voice was there, dismissing her words as nonsense.  _ What had she been trying to tell him?  _ He was certain it was important. Maybe James would be able to figure it out when he got home. Wherever that was. 

Boots crunched through gravel on the other side of the barrels. Two men spoke. Alec couldn’t remember the name of the language, but he could understood what they said. Most of it, at least. They were taking their lorry to England.

England? Memory prodded him again. Yes, that sounded right. 

Alec got up and followed the men, sticking to the shadows as much as he could. His heart soared when he saw the lorry they were driving: it had open sides, easy enough for him to get aboard and find a place to hide amongst the crates.

He got into place just as the lorry’s engine roared to life.

* * *

The lorry pulled to a stop near the Freight Drivers Centre after leaving the Chunnel’s freight train, and everywhere was the smell of the sea from the nearby harbour. Alec stuck his head out from cover. He needed to find a way to sneak off without being seen. A faint tug at the back of his mind prodded him insistently. He had to follow it to wherever it led.  _ James?  _ Yes, probably James. That seemed right. At the moment, however, there were too many people and vehicles moving about for him to jump off the lorry safely, despite the early hour. He ducked back under cover to wait for his chance.

It came sooner than he thought; the lorry moved over to the side of the arrival yard, leaving one side facing towards the fence. Alec leapt from the lorry and soon found himself heading away from the harbour area. Now all he had to do was make his way to London.

He had no idea how he was going to find James once he got there. He could only hope the faint tug at the back of his mind would guide him in the right direction.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec has found his way home, to James and Q. Now they need confirmation that he is their Alec. But once they know for sure, they need a way to turn him back into a human again.

The dog wandered through the green place. It had taken him longer than he’d thought it would to get to where he might find the source of the pull. He’d followed the tug all over the city. It was close, he could tell that, but he knew nothing else about it. It was just a feeling, one that whispered of _home_ and _safe._

He kept to the trees in the green place, hiding where he could. There were humans walking there, and he’d had enough contact with humans over the last few weeks to know they chased him when they saw him. If not for the pull tugging him there, he would find someplace safer, with no humans around. The dog found a dark place where he could hide. The source of whatever was tugging at him was getting closer. He’d wait for it.

His tail wagged in anticipation as the pull got stronger. Soon! It had almost reached him — but then it got weaker again. Whatever was tugging at him was going away again! He inched out of his hiding place and saw two humans walking away from him. Were they the source of the pull? And now they were leaving him behind! Disappointment flowed through him, bursting out in a high pitched whine.

Oddly, the two humans decided to play. One jumped on the other, knocking them both to the ground. The dog thought that looked like fun. He’d like to jump on the two humans and play, but he was wary, too, despite the feeling of _home_ and _safe._ He’d been chased too many times. Even though they were the source of the pull, he was still hesitant to approach them.

Instead, after the two humans got up, one came to him, saying words the dog could almost understand. Sounding… kind. He let the human stroke his head. It was nice. He followed the kind human back over to the other one. 

* * *

He had followed the two humans through the green place and kept following, even after they left it and went to a car. He had wanted to trust they wouldn’t hurt him, and he’d thought he was right. Now, though, he was soaking wet, covered in funny smelling stuff the kind human was rubbing through his fur. He supposed it wasn’t too bad, really. The kind human kept speaking to him. He could almost understand what the kind human said, but not quite…

After the bath, the kind human brought him to the kitchen, and the dog realized that the other human was the main source of the pull, although some of the pull came from the kind human. How strange. And the other human had a plate of eggs, and the dog watched it anxiously. He was so hungry, would the other human let him have some? The other human said something, and put the plate on the floor. For _him!_ The dog tried not to eat too fast, but the eggs were delicious. The kind human said something to him, and the dog waited to see if he had to abandon the lovely eggs to follow, but the kind human let him stay to finish eating. The food human actually talked to him, but didn’t interfere with his eating, so the dog went back to his meal. 

The kind human came back with an object that beeped at the food human. The dog, finished with his eggs, went to stand next to the kind human. There was an air of tension between the humans. The dog was startled when the kind human waved the beeping thing at him. The tension in the air became more pronounced when it beeped again. _Why?_ It was a beeping thing. Shouldn’t it have beeped? Humans could be very strange. 

The two humans kept talking to each other. The dog pressed close to the kind human, unsure whether he was giving or getting comfort. Eventually, the two stopped talking. The dog waited to see what would happen next. To his surprise, the food human knelt in front of him.

“Alec? _Is_ it you?”

* * *

Alec Trevelyan became aware of several things at once: he was a dog, he was standing in the kitchen of their flat, he was tired, sore, and still hungry, and oh, yes — did he mention the dog thing? He stared at James in confusion. _What the fuck?_ But instead of words, the only thing that came out was a confused bark.

“Did he just answer you?” Q asked James, sounding surprised.

Why was Q surprised? For that matter, why was Alec a _dog,_ standing in their kitchen, when the last thing he remembered was being on a mission? 

He barked again.

* * *

Q stared at the dog, then at James — who still knelt there, with a terrible hope in his eyes. _Could_ this be Alec? It made no sense, and yet… “If you _are_ Alec, bark once for no, twice for yes.” Two heads turned to stare at him in disbelief.

“Why…” James shook his head, obviously not understanding. “Q, why would you tell him to bark no?” 

“He might not be Alec,” Q explained reasonably. “If he’s someone else, we should know that.”

“Right,” James muttered after a moment of staring at him incredulously. Then he looked at the dog. “All right, then. Are you Alec Trevelyan, one bark for no, two for yes — hang on.” James looked up at Q once more. “Shouldn’t it be once for _yes,_ and twice for no?”

“Of course not. It’s once for no and twice for yes. It’s logical.”

“None of this is logical,” James grumbled under his breath.

Q ignored him and watched the dog expectantly. “Well?”

The dog — _Alec_ — woofed. Twice. 

James fell backwards, gaping at Alec like a stunned fish.

Q fought the urge to giggle hysterically at the image. He didn’t blame James for being shocked. Q was feeling a bit weak in the knees himself. He hadn’t _actually_ believed… ”How?”

Alec seemed to shrug. He opened his mouth, but he only barked several times. He stopped and looked supremely frustrated at not being able to make himself understood. Q understood that feeling all too well. He felt the same way when he was talking to people that didn’t understand computers as well as he did. And Mallory, when they were talking about the annual budget for Q Branch. Q huffed to himself and dragged his attention back to the matter at hand. Yes and no answers would only get them so far. He’d need to come up with a way to allow Alec to communicate. A pencil and paper? He considered Alec’s long muzzle. No, that would make it difficult for Alec to hold a pencil well enough, and that didn’t take into account if he would be dexterous enough to write. Perhaps a keyboard? But those huge paws wouldn’t be able to press a single key…. Hmmm… this would take some thought…

“Do you remember your Morse?” James asked, finally over his shock, and regarding Alec thoughtfully.

Morse code? Yes, that would make communication much easier. Q huffed, annoyed at himself. Why hadn’t _he_ thought of that? 

Alec woofed twice, then sat, his tail sweeping back and forth against the floor. 

* * *

They moved into the living room and got comfortable. Well, as comfortable as they could, anyway. James and Q sat on the couch while Alec sat on the floor nearby. He told the story in bits and pieces, so that James and Q could translate as he went. To his embarrassment, his woofing had gotten less intelligible the more excited he got at being able to communicate again, so they’d decided he could tap his toenails against a pot. His nails could make crisp _dits_ and _dahs_ against the metal. 

Q had wanted to record him, but James shot that idea down. It was far better not to have anything around that would be proof later on. He was a dog with the brain of a man, and if someone caught him, he might end up spending the rest of his life — a dog’s lifespan? Or a human’s? — in a lab. None of them wanted to risk that. Instead, Q wrote down the letters as James translated.

“—and then I followed the feeling that pulled me towards the city, to where you were,” Q read, looking from Alec to James. “And you have no idea how you turned into a dog?”

Alec barked no. He was glad they’d decided to table the discussion of the feeling that guided him to Q and James. That, too, had been embarrassing. At least he wasn’t alone in his embarrassment in talking about emotions. 

A fleck of color caught his eye. Specks of purple surrounded by green, and reminding him of lilacs. He recognized it, of course. A vase with a floral motif that he’d bought years ago as a bit of a gag gift for James. Alec had dragged it home from a charity shop he’d found himself hiding in while following a mark. He’d needed to buy something to justify hanging around the shop. He hadn’t expected James to keep the damn thing. Eventually, it became a tradition for them to buy flowers to put into it every so often. Around their birthdays, sometimes. Or whenever. Brightened the place up a bit.

Now why was he thinking about the vase? A memory nudged him. _Lilacs._ Yes. Sitting outside beneath the huge lilac tree with his grandmother when he was young. It was important somehow… 

“Alec?” James’ voice, sounding worried.

He tapped out _wait,_ and attempted to track down the memory. His grandmother had died when he was little. He had missed her… she told the best stories… 

About _animals,_ he suddenly realized. Had she known? He could almost hear her voice, telling him about something, a warning of some kind… But his father’s voice interrupted. Angry. Sneering at them talking about the old stories. Nonsense, he’d called it. Alec had butted heads with his father all through his childhood. He’d only escaped when he joined the Royal Marines the minute he’d gotten out of school. He huffed in frustration.

“Did you think of something, Alec?” Q asked, leaning forward. 

Q had placed a comforting hand on James’ knee at some point, Alec realized with a twinge of guilt. Neither of his lovers expected that they’d be sharing their evening with a dog. “j u s t o l d m e m o r i e s,” he tapped. “m a y b e m y f a m i l y m i g h t k n o w m o r e.”

James frowned. “Alec, there’s no one in your family that’s left.”

“n o o n e c l o s e. s e c o n d c o u s i ns.” Truthfully, he’d almost forgotten them. His mother’s cousins. They hadn’t been impressed with his father either.

Q cocked his head, obviously thinking. “If you can give me some search parameters, I’ll set up a search to find them.” 

Uh oh. “n o t f r o m w o r k. u n a u t h o r i z e d.” He didn’t want Q to get fired because of a search on his behalf. 

“If you think I’d let the lack of authorization stop me, you’ve got another think coming,” Q said, glaring at him. “I will do whatever I have to when it comes to you and James. Or any of my Double O’s.”

And this was why Q was as much home and safe as James was, Alec realized. His tail thumped against the floor.

* * *

The flat was dark when Alec woke. He was lying with his head in James’ lap. James was sitting against the couch, one arm over Alec’s shoulder, and his head resting back against a cushion. Q slept on the couch. James had covered Q with a blanket earlier, Alec remembered, after their boffin had fallen asleep while they were talking. 

Alec shivered. He’d like a blanket too. It had gotten chilly. _Wait._ How could he be cold? He was normally hot. Besides, he had fur now. But… the only warmth in his body was from James’ hand, warm against the skin of his shoulder — 

He shot to his feet with a startled cry. His _two_ feet, he realized with elation. Beside him, James was there, staring in shock with his Walther in hand. On the couch, Q had sat up as well, the blanket slipping down to pool at his waist. Alec tossed back his head and laughed. He was human again!

Q was up and wrapping his arms around Alec by the time James got over his shock. Alec was aware that James disappeared the Walther back into its usual hiding place before wrapping himself around the two of them in a warm embrace. 

James kissed his temple and murmured, “Welcome home, Alec.”

“Why don’t we go to bed?” One of Q’s hands found Alec’s arse and squeezed. “We can have a proper homecoming.”

Alec grinned at his lovers. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

They’d have time tomorrow — or the next day — to figure out how to solve the puzzle. Alec was content to spend the rest of the night wrapped up in James and Q.


End file.
